


Lay Me Down

by elenei



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, forest lovin, where its meant to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenei/pseuds/elenei
Summary: Arya and Gendry can't help but get into mischief when she's wearing a dress.





	Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing anything sexual. You've been warned.

There was to be a great feast in her honor. Whether Arya liked it or not. She had told Bran not to bother. She didn’t need a feast to celebrate being another year older. It seemed a waste as far as Arya was concerned. But her brother had insisted. _Your life is a cause for celebration,_ he had claimed. Arya did not know what to say to that so she had said nothing. It was to be a relatively small affair, all things considered. For that Arya was grateful. She had been to only a few extravagant feasts in her life but enough to know she did not care for them.

Preparations were made weeks in advance but Sansa arrived the day of the celebration bearing gifts.

“I brought you a present for your nameday!” Before Arya could even open the box Sansa continued. “I know you don’t love dresses but you’re a woman grown now. You should have at least one that befits your station.“ Arya wanted to tell her that she’d been a woman, or at least something that wasn’t a child, for quite some time. She had flowered years ago across the narrow sea in the Braavosi fogs.

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble,” Arya told her older sister as she untied the ribbon. She meant it most earnestly.   

“It was no trouble. I was practically bed ridden for the first two moons.” Sansa touched her swollen belly with a smile. “I needed to do something to pass the time.”

Arya did have some dresses already and she even wore them on occasion but this was much finer than her others. Those dresses were simple things of wool and linen in modest browns and greys. They made her blend with the serving girls. This was a gown for a highborn lady. There could be no doubt.

The fabric was a blue so pale and bright it reminded Arya of ice. It was embroidered elaborately by Sansa’s hand. She must have spent a great deal of time on it. Arya ran her fingers over the gold stitches. They were shaped like leaves and vines.

 “Will you wear it tonight?” Sansa asked, eagerly.

Arya already knew she couldn’t refuse. Sansa had travelled all the way to visit and she had brought a splendid gift with her. She wasn’t going to act like a child by discarding it.

Besides, Arya Stark wasn’t afraid of a _dress_.

“Of course,” Arya said. And so she let them wrap her up in it. Like she was a present herself.

The bodice was cut far lower than anything Arya had ever worn before. It made her breasts look bigger than they truly were. At least from Arya’s vantage. It was tightly fitted at the waist and Arya instantly felt uncomfortably confined within the material. But she only gritted her teeth as they braided her hair on top of her head with pearl pins. Sansa gave Arya a small amber bottle filled with perfume too. It smelled more woodsy and spicy than the delicate floral scents Sansa wore. Arya liked it.

When they were finished Sansa and maidservants alike showered her with compliments.

“You’re beautiful,” Sansa told her. Arya gave her a look of derision. Sansa sighed but she held her ground. “You truly are.”

Arya begged a moment alone and strapped a dagger to her thigh. It was one Gendry had made her with a wolf handle. Arya knew she would never need it within Winterfell’s great hall but she felt more herself with it.

She felt ready for battle which she supposed these sorts of things were in a way.

Bran was seated at the high seat with Rickon at his left and Sansa beside him. When Arya entered the hall the entire room turned to look at her. Arya raised her chin and joined her siblings on the dais.

She spotted Gendry across the hall. He was staring at her with a look in his eyes. A look Arya had grown very familiar with. She had caught him looking at her like this often as of late. She couldn’t remember exactly when it had first happened. Maybe it had been the day they had gone swimming. Arya’s wet tunic had clung to her body like nothing more than a second skin. Gendry had stared with his mouth hanging open and then realizing where his gaze was blushed and stammered and refused to look in her direction for a fortnight.

_He’s so stupid_ , Arya thought as she sank into her seat. She didn’t know what it meant or even how she felt about Gendry’s _looks_. Bran reached out and touched her hand.

“You’re the living image of our Aunt,” he said with a smile but his voice was solemn. Arya was the same age Lyanna Stark had been when she died. It was a strange thought. Their aunt had been only sixteen when she lost her life giving birth to Jon in that tower. Sansa was only two years older but married and expecting a baby too. Their mother had been even younger when married to father. Arya had never been with a man.

Her eyes reflexively went to Gendry. He was down on the benches with his apprentice. Gendry was Winterfell’s master armorer. He was nearly twenty. His body was well made and his face handsome. Arya hadn’t realized it as a girl but it was clear as day to her now. _Surely he’s known a woman._ The thought made Arya uneasy _._ She had never seen him with one even though she visited him all hours of the day and night but he could have a lover. Arya had overheard many girls and women admiring him.  

Arya couldn’t help but dwell on that as the courses were brought out before her. As she ate she surveyed the rest of the hall. Gendry wasn’t the only one looking at her. Many lords who were interested in wedding a Stark of Winterfell had shown up for the festivities. With Sansa taken that made Arya their focus. But Arya would not have any of them. She had made that clear as day to any who would listen but many still persisted. Arya could only imagine how many would ask her to dance the second she dropped her fork. Then she would have to grit her teeth and bear their company for Bran if not her own reputation. Not that she cared much about the latter. Her reputation would go with some sullying. Arya’s eyes shot to Gendry once more. He met her gaze and playfully winked at her.

Arya rose.

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” she informed her brothers and sister.

“Are you alright?” Bran’s face was concerned. Sansa was looking in her direction too.

Arya nodded and quickly abandoned her own nameday feast. But she knew the celebration would go on. If anyone missed her it wouldn’t be for long. The men and women were well into their cups and the dancing would last into the morning hours.

The air outside was crisp and clean and Arya found it refreshing. Though, she did not feel she could truly breathe it in with the tightness of the dress. Even her feet felt pinched in the slippers. Arya took only a few steps from the castle before she heard him behind her.

“Arya? Where are you going?” he asked.

Gendry had followed her out of the hall into the courtyard.

 “Away,” she said shortly. She strode towards the godswood in silence for several minutes with Gendry trailing behind before she decided to confess. “It was too warm in there.” Gendry shrugged.

“I’m used to it. The forge is hotter.” That was true. Gendry was southron too. The north’s weather had been a drastic adjustment for him. He could find work anywhere in the world, Westeros and Essos alike, but he stayed at Winterfell all the same. “Your guests will miss you.”

“They’re not my guests,” Arya argued.

“Those lords didn’t show up to woo your brother.” A familiar bitterness had crept into his voice.   

Arya didn’t say anything to that. She kept walking. And Gendry kept following. Arya wasn’t even sure she wanted him to but she didn’t tell him to stop either.

As they made their way into the trees Gendry cleared his throat.

“You know…” he began. His voice was hesitant. She could tell he was about to say something he felt was very important. Arya felt her heart flutter but she ignored it and kept walking. _Don’t be stupid_ , she told herself. His next words came out in a rush. “You look beautiful.”

It was the last straw.

Arya whirled to face him. Gendry stopped abruptly. Even in the dying daylight she could see how red his face was. He looked more nervous than she had ever seen him. And they had lived through the war against the Others together.

“Do you prefer like this?” Arya asked sharply. The thought made her angry and sad at the same time though she wasn’t sure why. Gendry looked pained as he always did when thinking hard.

“Like what?”

“In a dress.”

“No!” He was telling the truth. Arya could see it on his face. She knew how to see a lie. Especially on Gendry’s honest face. But she pressed him more.

“So you like it more when I wear men’s trousers?”

Gendry threw his hands up.

“I don’t care about your bloody clothes.” He sounded angry now too but he was still blushing.

Arya bit her lip. She thought of the look he had given her in the hall. And that day when they went swimming in the pools. And when she would sit and watch him in the forge. And when she trained in the yard. And even when they would just relax together on lazy afternoons in the godswood.

_He’s always looking at me like that_ , Arya realized. _No matter what I’m wearing or what time of day or where we are. He always looks at me the same way._ And suddenly she didn’t feel so confused anymore.

* * *

Arya was staring at him just as intensely as he had been at her earlier in the hall when he first saw her in that dress. She had taken his breath away. Gendry had seen her dressed up before but it was a rare sight. She looked different and yet exactly the same. She was always beautiful to him but something about the low cut of the dress or the way her hair was swept up from her neck made a fool of him.

He never should have told her she looked pretty. It had just slipped out like it almost had many times before. Gendry decided to blame the cup of wine he had drunk but he knew he had only his own foolish heart to blame.

He had wanted Arya long before tonight. It made no matter how she was dressed because in his dreams she wore nothing. The only thing that mattered was that she wanted him. She would tell him over and over while she cried out his name. But Arya didn’t. Not like that. He was sure of it. She could have anyone. Any man in the kingdom would kill to have her. What chance did he have?

Gendry felt himself grow even warmer under her gaze. As if she could read his shameful thoughts. Her face gave nothing away and yet somehow Gendry knew she was measuring him. He hated that she could so easily conceal her feelings but could see right through him.

“Do you want me?” She demanded.

Gendry could hear the blood rushing to his head.

“What are you talking about?” He managed to ask sounding half strangled.

“I think you know.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“You do,” she insisted.

Gendry didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say. If he lied she would see through him. And the truth was even more perilous. Defensively, he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her.

_I don’t want her because I’m not allowed to want her._

His refusal to answer must have amused her because her eyes lit up. That made Gendry even more nervous. He knew that look. It was mischievous and dangerous. She had something on her mind.

Without another word Arya turned and ran from him.

“Arya!” he called after her. But she did not heed his call. She vanished into the woods.

“I hate it when she does this,” he mumbled to the trees as he plowed through the branches after her. A useless task, he knew. Arya wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be found. She was quicker and quieter than Gendry could ever hope to be. Even in that dress he knew she could move like a shadow. Still he pressed on after her.  

He walked for a while among the dark browns and greens before coming across something he did not expect. Gendry found one small gold slipper discarded on the forest floor and then the other several feet away.  He picked them up. _It’s probably easier for her to run from me without them_ , he thought with irritation. They were pointed and had a small heel. But then he discovered her stockings in the leaves not far from where her shoes had been left. Gendry screwed up his face. _What is she playing at?_ He added her stockings to his collection with a blush. He could swear they were still warm from being wrapped tight around her legs.

He stalked through the trees for several minutes until a flash of blue caught his eye. For a moment Gendry thought he had found her. But it was only her dress hanging over a low branch. Gendry’s throat went dry and he swallowed hard. His hands clutched at the fine fabric.

“Arya, this isn’t funny!” He yelled into the woods. He almost thought he heard a girlish laugh on the wind.

On a rock were her smallclothes. Gendry closed his eyes and said an oath. Ahead the trees began to thin. Gendry took a deep breath. His feet seemed to move on their own. Gendry’s head told him to turn back. It wasn’t too late. He could still return to his forge. He knew what was ahead. But his heart pushed him on for that very reason.

Arya was standing in the clearing, naked as the day she was born. Gendry felt his heart stop. She looked exactly like she did in his dreams. No, _better_. Because she was flesh and blood and standing before him with a look Gendry had never seen on her face. _Longing_. His feet were rooted in place like the trees her people worshipped. The sun was setting behind her casting the forest and her bare skin in golden light.

Gendry had never seen anything as beautiful.

* * *

Arya waited for him to do something. It seemed like forever that he just stood there; barely blinking or breathing. Arya wondered if she had misjudged the situation after all. Perhaps he didn’t want her. She stared at him, unflinching.  She would not be the first to turn away.

But then he dropped her clothes in the grass and strode towards Arya until he was standing right in front of her. He didn’t grab at her breasts or her bottom like she had expected. Gendry slowly raised his hand to her face and brushed his thumb over her cheek. His hand was trembling.

“Like this,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse. “I prefer you like this.”

He pulled her against his body. The roughness of his clothes against her bare skin made Arya shiver. His arms wrapped around her waist and Arya’s reached up to grab his shoulders. His blues eyes that had been so nervous earlier were sparkling. She stared up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth. That made him smile. Gendry moved his thumb to her mouth her tugged her lip free. And then he kissed her.

It was the first time she had been kissed as Arya Stark. And she felt it in every inch of her body. It was different from the harsh, slimy, _wrong_ kiss she remembered a girl called Mercy receiving in a dark and crooked alleyway. Gendry’s lips were soft and tender against hers in the dying sunlight. It was Arya who decide to reach her tongue out to touch his lips. Gendry gasped and pulled away for a moment to stare at her before diving back for another kiss. Then it was Arya who gasped as Gendry covered her breast with his callused hand. Arya knew how strong his hands were but he was as gentle as could be when he touched her.

Gendry dropped to his knees and gently laid Arya in the grass. He gazed down at her while he caught his breath. She could feel how hard he was. Arya seized the chance to push him over so she was straddling him. Gendry barely had a chance to grin before she dove down to kiss him. They rolled across the forest floor while tugging Gendry’s clothes off. His vest and his tunic followed by his trousers and finally his small clothes. Arya had seen him naked years ago as a girl but this was nothing like that. He was no longer a boy of four and ten. And she wasn’t a child either. They took turns kissing each other. Arya pressed her lips to his shoulders while Gendry’s open mouth sucked on the delicate skin of her breasts.

And then he was inside her. It stung but somehow felt right. Arya had known many hurts in her life but this was a good one. Their gasps and moans joined the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. When she cried his name Gendry groaned, his hand clutched the dirt beside her head.

It’s over far too soon for Arya’s liking. They both lie on in the grass, covered in dirt, looking up at the sky. It was still light out but they could see the full moon overhead. _A good omen_ , Arya thought. She could feel Gendry watching her. Arya turned her head. His expression was softer than she was used to seeing.

“Can I say you’re beautiful now?” Gendry asked. Arya pushed herself off the ground and pressed her body against his once more.

“Only if we do that again.”


End file.
